


monsoon

by blackberry_peachx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 3/4 of this is Flirting and Thoughts, Aged-Up Character(s), Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Future Fic, M/M, Making Dinner Together, Making Out, Mild Kink, Mutual Pining, Pining Hunk (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pre-Relationship, Smut, Unreliable Narrator, Unresolved Emotional Tension, post-season 3, so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:05:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11629950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackberry_peachx/pseuds/blackberry_peachx
Summary: “Yeah, I’m cool. Just… thoughts,” Hunk says and shrugs.Geez, what are we doing… what amIdoing…, he thinks to himself as the sense of longing doesn’t fade. Through the corner of his eye, he can see Lance leaning over to look past him where Keith is at the end of their supply train, batting kids away from his aged and repurposed belt pouches where the candies must be kept.It's been a long day, removing the Galra black market from the planet, helping out the alien population, and then declining the party invitation Hunk absolutely does not want to attend, he goes back to the Castle to prep stores and make some dinner for himself. Keith joins him. Full of emotions and too many feelings, Hunk is not quite sure what to make of this 'benefit' relationship with Keith, though he has a sense there might be more...--Or, a very self-indulgent Hunk-centric fanfic.





	monsoon

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a few weeks in the making, though I entirely blame [Theshadehasbeenthrown](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Theshadehasbeenthrown/pseuds/Theshadehasbeenthrown) for being my heith fandom buddy and letting me bounce ideas around with them, encouraging me to write this indulgent conglomeration of words and too many feelings in our wild convos. xoxo 
> 
> Also, I've been wanting to make strange nature into a series for awhile, so that's where this comes from. You do not need to read it to understand this fic, but you might if you want to know Keith's side of things and how they started since this mainly focuses on Hunk. 
> 
> Title from the song Monsoon by Hippo Campus, and the series name from Goodnight by Shoffy... it makes me really emo and I listened to it on a loop while writing this. Also the song I imagine Hunk singing to himself is [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPrza6iiCWU). Spotify and I are celebrating our three year wedding anniversary yesterday, so sorry for all the song refs ;) 
> 
> All characters are 20+. This is set pretty far in the future so I tried combining elements from the Season 3 trailer into this even though this takes place long after.

The days and weeks are filled with so many Voltron duties required of them that Hunk’s head spins with it. He’s pretty sure his fingers are permanently numb from how many rewiring’s he’s had to do on alien machinery and his shoulders ache from maneuvering the levers in his Lion so often. One cool thing, though, was finding out that his Bayard can also function as a grenade launcher, which was pretty sweet, and came to him when he needed it most stuck behind a barricade on their last mission… or, two missions ago, actually. Also, another cool thing: he discovered he can get Keith to flush in that certain way that always makes him duck his head when Hunk just gives him a Look. He doesn’t even have to try very hard. Oh, wait, another cool thing: there’s this vegetable-slash-fruit thing he found on a planet called Ryun-XT4 that makes an amazing glaze for the kebabs he’s perfecting. So there’s that. 

But, he hasn’t had time for much else other than sleeping and slurping up as much food goo as he possibly can in between the constant barrage of missions they’re handed as the universe inevitably falls apart around them. Prince Lotor and his generals are as elusive as they are destructive, thriving in the chaos of planets on the brink of war and coercing them to his side, needling his fingers into elaborate trade networks and black markets, benefitting from it all and disappearing into the expanse of black matter that makes up the universe like he was made of it. And his generals are just as good. Frighteningly good, and terrifying, to say the least. They’ve had a few brushes with them and Voltron never came out entirely on top. Hunk got his ass handed to him by the big lady general with the fluorescent bat ears when his Bayard got knocked out of his hand and he tried to fist fight, a lot more confident in his hand-to-hand now than he used to be, but not quite up to par. She literally threw him into a wall like he was a blanket. That was embarrassing. And painful. 

The rest of the team is in a similar state as him: at their wit’s end and ready to crash for about a thousand years. Pidge is entrenched trying to track down Lotor and his flagship nearly all hours of the day while not on the battlefield, writing and rewriting protocols and codes and enlisting Slav to help her build drones based off her blueprints. Lance helps Allura often with the diplomatic side of things, recording messages and sending out alliance treaties and interpreting valuable intel from their allies. Shiro and Keith are usually planning strategies with Kolivan when the Marmorites are available, busy with their own side of things in tracking down Haggar and dismantling the Galra Empire where they can.

And Hunk filters in where he’s welcome, going with Lance on diplomatic missions, helping Pidge with her engineering and giving useful tips to Slav (somehow he’s adept at wrangling the slithery, anxious alien into this reality… any guess is as good as his), helping Coran around the castle fixing outdated equipment, and assisting in parsing out ideas with Shiro, Keith, and Allura. He suggests possible sectors and ‘maths out’ likely positions for Lotor’s generals, and he discovers he’s actually pretty decent at strategy, since not having one gives him the serious jitters. 

He plans out a mission with Shiro to wrest the Galra black market from the planet Mityir and it goes blessedly smoothly, only minor mishaps to trip them up. And the way Keith looks at him after could have sent him hurdling through nebulas and galaxies on the tail of an asteroid, filling him with so much stardust he thought he might burst.

The stardust feeling still lingers even as he, Lance and Keith deliver traded supplies to the hospitals on Mityir that desperately needed them, their stores barren since the market inflated medicine and equipment prices to insane GAC amounts. (Hunk reminds himself that the ‘G’ no longer stands for Galra, now Galactic Approved Currency as the dismantling of Zarkon’s Empire proves imminent—though Lotor may try his hardest.) Ever since this Thing with Keith started months ago (geez, maybe even almost a year?), or what Lance so aptly named ‘friends with benefits,’ Hunk has been living pretty good, minus all the bad injuries and lost alien life and… all the sad things that come with war and struggle…. It hasn’t been too bad for him. He misses his family more than anything, and it hits him sometimes in the way that nostalgia does in the oddest times, but he’s managing. He’s closer with his teammates than he’s ever been, with the Princess and Coran and feeling validated and needed in the universe for the job it’s given him. 

As they chat with the hospital administration, smiling and laughing as the supplies are heartily doled out with gratitude and the endless thanks of the Mityans, Hunk looks over at Keith and catches the rare sight of a smile taking up his whole face as one of the children sneaks a pilfered treat from his hand. Hunk always had a sneaking suspicion Keith carried little items like that with him when they did things like this, after catching Pidge doing so once. Watching him discretely give the child a little alien candy makes Hunk’s heart do weird things in his chest, different things than the usual when he thinks about Keith. 

Children flock to him, catching the scent of Voltron specialty candies, and Hunks heart trembles, settles precariously in his chest with an acute longing. That nostalgic feeling of _home_ trickles into his stomach like a frayed wire. 

His realization must show on his face because Lance turns to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, buddy, you alright? Did you catch the flu or something just now?” He sounds mildly worried, so Hunk turns to him and flashes him a smile he hopes is convincing. 

“Yeah, I’m cool. Just… thoughts,” he says and shrugs, passing over a box to one of the Mityans. _Geez, what are we doing… what am_ I _doing_ …, he thinks to himself as the sense of longing doesn’t fade. Through the corner of his eye, he can see Lance leaning over to look past him where Keith is at the end of their supply train, batting kids away from his aged and repurposed belt pouches where the candies must be kept. 

At Lance’s dissatisfied hum, Hunk drops his shoulders. He wants to divulge Lance of the thoughts that have kept him awake at night, distracted him in aerial battles, almost threatened the connection to Voltron, but he finds his throat closing up every time. It’s like voicing them would make them real, and Hunk doesn’t want them to be, doesn’t want them to disrupt this relatively pleasant flow he’s been riding on, and he especially doesn’t want Keith to know. 

“Suspicious,” Lance says flatly, flipping through items on the Altean tablet he’s holding, pulling a deep frown. “I’m on to you, pal. Even if you refuse to tell me that it has absolutely everything to do with Keith.” His voice is nonchalant but Hunk knows better, and he sighs internally that Lance got the nail on the head. Lance looks up and smiles at the Mityan that’s helping them, laughs about something, and Hunk is let off the hook for now as the blue paladin is lead away to other business. Hunk keeps passing out boxes. 

He schools his expression into something more pleasant though he’s never been very good at it when his mind is so turbulent. He chats with those who come up for supplies, finding things for them through their huge anti-gravity floating containers, and pointedly doesn’t look down the line where Keith is screwing off with the Mityan kids. He just has to get his thoughts in order before they’re done here and he can hide in the kitchen for as long as he wants, wistfully thinking of all the dates he could take Keith on… all the grand gestures he wishes he could accomplish to prove his worth, to prove how good he could be to him. His traitorous brain provides him with glimpses of various scenarios where Keith accepts him without a war looming over their heads, all the heavy kisses they could share, looks full of something more than friendly fondness… and before he knows it, Hunk is hitting his head on the side of the container while he’s bent over into it from a loud stream of laughter behind him. 

“He looks like a warvuu cub!” one of the kids shout somewhere near him as he kicks his feet looking for the ground. Hunk stands up and whips his head around looking down by his knees wondering if one of the kids decided to hop into the container, but only finds Keith a few feet away from him. He’s holding one of the Mityan’s over his shoulder backwards, grasping their ankles as they dangle behind him delightedly. Hunk flushes as he catches Keith smiling at him, finding Hunk the warvuu cub amusing, apparently.  
“That better be a nice thing,” Keith says to the child he’s holding, quirking his brow. 

“Yeah! They’re big and fluffy and have short legs that kick all the time!” They tell him, slapping the armor covering Keith’s thighs. Hunk watches as Keith spins around fast, much to the child’s sheer cackling joy, before lifting their legs off his shoulder and flipping them around expertly and carefully for someone who never grew up with any siblings. 

“Alright, I have to actually get to business now, little dude. It’s been fun,” Keith ruffles their purple hair and they giggle before scampering off a few feet, only to spin back around like they just remembered something. 

“Thanks for the candy, mister paladin!” The child shouts and waves, then bounces away to join the rest of the children on the other side of the courtyard. 

Keith waves even as they’ve long since run off, and Hunk feels that same stupid warmth seeping through him that makes him a little dizzy, watching Keith be so endearing with children doing weird things to his wellbeing. It reminded him painfully of his own siblings, roughhousing with them in the yard, wrestling and laughing and running circles. _Keith could fit so well_ , he thinks, and immediately squashes the thought. _Don’t even go there, Hunk, if you know what’s good for you_. 

“Hey,” Keith greets softly, winded from wrangling kids for the better part of an hour, his hair a little disheveled. “Sorry, I’ve been… occupied.” 

“Hey yourself,” Hunk says and smiles though it feels forced. He turns his head away and shakes himself a little, masking it by lifting out a box from the container so Keith hopefully wouldn’t notice. _Get yourself together, dude_. “No worries, we’re almost done here.”

“Where’d Lance go?” Keith asks, searching around the courtyard for the blue paladin, helping lift out more boxes. 

Hunk hums noncommittally. “No idea, probably talking the admin’s ear off. Hopefully for a good reason,” he smirks and delights when Keith catches it and does the same. 

“Yeah, _hopefully_ ,” Keith adds. “That might be asking too much, though,” he says lightheartedly, knowing just what kind of antics Lance could get himself into.

Hunk chuckles a little at that, and just for the fun of it, gives Keith that trademarked Look as he reaches into the container and lifts out a particularly heavy box. It’s tried and true; Keith flushes and turns away like he wasn’t affected at all. 

They work together in companionable silence even as the Mityans around them chatter excitedly and gossip amongst themselves, and soon enough Hunk and Keith have unloaded their train of supplies without Lance’s help. Hunk spots him on the other side of the courtyard in a gaggle of Mityan hospital admins who listen attentively to whatever he’s talking about, but Hunk can’t find it within him to be even a little annoyed. Keith seems unperturbed as well, and Hunk stretches his back and pretends not to watch Keith’s backside as he walks to the front of the train to the control panel. The Altean anti-grav containers fold themselves into one big metal box for easier transportation without supplies in them after Keith presses a button to start the process. 

“Come on,” Keith looks up from the control panel and beckons Hunk to him with a nod of his head. “Let’s go collect Lance and bring him back to this reality.” 

Hunk laughs at the on-going joke as he walks toward him, and for a moment it looks like Keith starts to reach out for him but stops himself short of touching his arm. Instead Keith opts to walk closely next to him but Hunk will take it, even if he feels an unbidden tinge of disappointment. 

“Yeah, you think Slav might know which one?” Hunk jokes along, feeling the faint tapping of their gauntlets between them as their arms brush. 

“Only with a 7.2% possibility,” Keith smirks and raises a brow. 

“Ah, those are good odds,” Hunk smiles and looks down to admire the way Keith lifts a hand to brush his hair out of his face when the wind blows it across his forehead. He suddenly remembers the last time they were close, still panting and gathering their words together post-climax, he had brushed Keith’s hair behind his ear, and Keith had melted so beautifully into it. It was stupid how much Hunk wanted to brush his hair back now but knowing that the circumstances would make it awkward. That’s, like, the most couple-y thing to do, and they definitely weren’t there yet. _Too many things to worry about_...

Keith looks up to him, his eyes searching over Hunk’s face, and for a moment his breath catches, wondering what Keith could possibly be seeing that he hasn’t hidden away. He smiles placatingly but in his mind he tucks all his weird thoughts away frantically like Keith might know just by looking at him. Keith opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by a voice across the courtyard shouting toward them. 

“Hey guys!” It’s Lance, waving wildly among the Mityans. He nudges past them, clutching the tablet in his hands, and runs toward them with a wide grin on his face. “I just heard about the party the monarch is throwing for us! Like, a freakin’ banquet and everything! Allura just messaged it over to me,” Lance stops short in front of them and shows them the tablet with Allura’s message on it. “Have we finished up? Is everything unloaded?”

“Yeah, Hunk and I did it while you were off blabbing,” Keith informs him breezily and smirks at Lance’s affronted scoff. 

“I helped! You went off and played with the kids first! Hunk and I watched you having a grand old time, too,” he nudges Keith with an elbow and a sleek grin that has Keith rolling his eyes. “Didn’t know you were a baby snatcher, giving out candy like that—“

“Pidge does it!” Keith growls and shoves Lance away, cheeks taking on a slight reddish hue and Hunk quietly laughs. “That’s not the point. We’re done. Let’s go back to the Castle.”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your feathers too ruffled,” Lance smiles, self-satisfied. “But first, group picture!” Then he runs off again, gathering some of the Mityan admins together and some of the children that still linger in the courtyard on their recess break.

“Don’t worry about it, Keith,” Hunk says, and before he realizes it, he places a hand on Keith’s back where the armor doesn’t cover, and leans in to say, “Lance started with the candy to snatch alien babes, so at least you’re using them for good.” 

Keith turns to him, letting Hunk’s hand stay where it is, and looks up with a bemused smirk on his face as he shakes his head. “Wow,” he says flatly, struggling to keep from grinning, and unfolds an arm to place his hand on Hunk’s shoulder. “I’m feeling so assured right now.” The sardonic tone in his voice makes Hunk burst out laughing unexpectedly even as their closeness makes his head woozy. 

“I mean, alien babes versus making kids love you? Definitely top ten on the Good Guy list,” Hunk smiles and drops his hand before he decides he wants to keep it there, turning to where Lance and the Mityans are gathering at the hospital’s entrance. “Come on, we’ve got pictures to take.” 

Keith’s mouth snaps shut and he follows Hunk wordlessly to the group. If Hunk thought he was flustered… well, he wouldn’t be sure what to think of that.

Lance has already taken several dozen selfies with some of the Mityans by the time Hunk and Keith join them for the bigger group pictures. They take some of the pictures more seriously but there were plenty of silly faces and poses interspersed within the camera roll for the Castle’s database and photobook they’re putting together. 

The whole time Hunk is thinking about the party the Mityan monarch is throwing for them and the whole idea fills him with dread. It’s the last thing he wants to do. A cloak of weariness has settled over him after so much social interaction and the on-planet tactical mission already today, not to mention his _other_ thoughts that have nudged and prodded their way to the forefront of his concerns. He’s not feeling up to it at all, even as he smiles and laughs with the group of Mityans for the pictures they’re taking. By the time they’re done, all Hunk wants to do is unwind in the kitchen cobbling recipes together and prep their food stores when they take off tomorrow. 

Luckily Lance is too busy chattering about the party to bother Hunk too much with his disenchanted mood when they start heading back to the Castle, Keith begrudgingly listening to whatever Lance is saying as he pulls the packed-up supply train behind him. Hunk doesn’t miss their combined looks of concern when he fails to interject with his usual witty comments, opting to watch the Mityir capital buzz on around them as they walk through the side streets. The only thing he’ll miss at the party would be trying the food options, curious as to what the Mityan cuisine actually was, but he supposes he could find out some other time, and there’s plenty of alien food palates left for him to test, he reasons. Besides, he doesn’t want to be a wet blanket for the others who want to go. 

“Allura wants us to meet her at the capitol building where Shiro, Pidge, and Coran are at,” Lance says as he swipes across the screen of the tablet once they’re up in the Castle, blindly following Keith to the storage bays to park the supply train. “I call driving the speeder!” 

Hunk sighs heavily, knowing he has to break the news and prove his mood to them, but better now than never. “I’m, uh, actually going to stick behind. Watch over the Castle, and stuff. I also have to prep the food we got earlier, too, so… you guys go on ahead, alright?” he smiles brightly to reassure them that he’s fine. It’s still disheartening to see Lance’s face fall, brows upturning as his hands drop to his side. Keith tilts his head a little, looking just as surprised and concerned, and Hunk feels his calculating gaze on him as he takes the handle from the red paladin to the supply train to finish parking it himself. 

“Are you sure, buddy?” Lance asks, and Hunk knows that he wants to know more, and he really appreciates Lance’s understanding, but he feels like he ought to say more to explain himself. 

“Yeah, I’m positive. Not really feeling up to it, after all we did today, anyway. It’s alright, really! You guys go have fun,” he waves to them and flees the scene as fast as the anti-grav supply train will allow him, though his ear pricks when he hears Lance speak in hushed tones to Keith down the passage behind him. Whatever it is he doesn’t want to know—doesn’t want to think about it! Everyone needs time to themselves, right? Right. He’s not in the wrong, though he does feel a little guilty for making his friends worry. He trusts them to pass on his message of staying behind to Allura and Shiro when they ask. 

Hunk takes the supply train to the storage bay where there are other assortments of useful Altean equipment, the Castle seeming to burst with hidden inventions for any possible need, which is great for a wormhole-traveling space base for Voltron. Hunk has spent hours just looking around, figuring out what kind of secrets the Castle has held during his time as a paladin, finding new and cooler things almost every time, though he remembers with a shiver down his spine some of the creepier and frankly frightening machines, too. Like the one that looks suspiciously like a handprint scanner but pops up with a zillion tiny drills when activated. Also there’s a little drone thing he found once that looked and talked too much like a Furby, which scared Hunk pantsless enough for him to punt it across the bay, yodeling sadly as it flew. Good riddance. He hasn’t seen it since. _But_ , he thinks, _what if it’s alive somewhere?_

Accidentally scaring himself with that thought, Hunk parks the supply train a little rushed and promptly leaves the bay. He goes to his room and changes out of his armor, putting it into a chute that simultaneously cleans it and makes it all shiny and sparkly and also delivers it to the quick-entry passage where he can put it on and shuttle down to Yellow when dire missions call for it. He slips on his pants and Castle-provided slippers with Yellow’s head on them and a comfy shirt picked up from the space mall after he grew out of his yellow longsleeve ages ago. He’s gotten buff as hell and he feels great about it. Geez, he wonders if his moms would recognize him with how much weight he’s lost, even if he’s still got plenty of padding… and on that thought he scrubs his barely stubbled face with a heavy sigh, deciding to shave it tomorrow, and pointedly ignores his melancholic thoughts. He’s got his own mission on his mind. 

Mityir and the last few planets they’ve visited have graciously provided them with several dozen boxes of food supplies to amp their selection by, like, twenty notches. Coran still swore left and right that food goo was the epitome of a ‘paladin delicacy’ but Hunk still refuses to buy it after all his food adventures in space have shown him that there are a hundred million possibilities better than goo. Though it was an easy fix to settle any hunger pangs—they all still ate it—Hunk still loved cooking and providing his friends with good food. 

He hums happily to himself as he considers the array of boxes sitting in the hall outside the kitchen, wondering what to dehydrate and what to freeze, then what to make for himself and leftovers if the Mityan party proves to have terrible food. He could go for something sweet right now, something with a bit of tang, lots of spice… like spicy enough to clear out his sinuses. That sounds great…

He starts to sort through the boxes with a single-minded excited intensity, hardly reading the script on some of the packaging and putting it into piles anyway without much care, sniffing vegetables and fruits and crazy-looking meats, all tallying them up on his mental list to use in some fashion or another. It’s calming, a task that doesn’t require much thinking on his part, taking things into the kitchen to use the dehydrator, to pack things carefully into vacuum-sealed containers or put into the refrigerator. 

He sings to himself as he goes, the silence of the Castle deafening, using various vegetable instruments to keep the beat and he stretches some of the words as he belts them out for fun, imagining the current slender root vegetable as a brilliant drumstick to the old song that currently only remains in his head. He has fun with it, purposefully using his excellent singing voice to warble out terrible notes, enjoying the reverberation that the kitchen provides. 

When the door to the hallway swooshes open Hunk swears his soul leaves his body in the squeal that escapes him. Several vegetables tumble onto the floor as he reaches for the nearby pan to use as a weapon when he whips around to see who it was interrupting his jam session. Hunk curses every mysterious entity in the universe when he sees it’s Keith in the doorway, standing stock-still in his armor and staring at him like Hunk grew several limbs in his absence, his face several shades of red. 

“Keith!” Hunk shouts needlessly, his surprise still coursing adrenaline through his whole being. “H-Hey! Hey, man! Wow, so good to see you, what’s up, what’s happening? I’m just—just messing around, ha ha, putting stuff in storage and all that, wow! Exciting!” he rambles, setting the pan he’s wielding down only for it to nearly slip to the floor, kicking the vegetables that have dropped on the ground as he strikes a convincing pose against the counter, hand on his cocked hip. 

Only belatedly does he pause to consider exactly why Keith is here, and his embarrassment is replaced with real concern when Keith doesn’t say anything. “Is something actually going on? What are you doing here? Is there like a coup going on at the capitol? Do I need to suit up?” 

Keith doesn’t deign to interrupt his barrage of questions, seeming to return back to his body when he coughs into his fist and rips his eyes away from Hunk to stare at his boots, which must seem very interesting in the attention he gives them. “Uh, no. Nothing like that. It’s… it’s fine,” he says roughly, folding his arms in an attempt to appear aloof but his posture remains rigid, and his face hasn’t paled. 

Hunk furrows his brows, trying to piece Keith’s sudden appearance together. He supposes he should check his tablet for any messages but realizes he left it in his room. “Oh… alright. Then, uh… what _is_ up?” Geez, that was awkward just leaving his mouth. 

Keith’s eyes flick back up to him and Hunk gets a distinct feeling like a bolt of electricity to the spine, just from that look alone.

“I… I left the party,” Keith says, then shakes his head to himself like that wasn’t obvious enough. He shuffles his feet, an endearing motion Hunk has placed under the list of Keith Antics that means he wants to say something but not sure how to. “It… it wasn’t where… I wanted to be. I didn’t want to go, either,” he mutters just loud enough for Hunk to hear across the kitchen, shoulders slumping a little as he sighs. “Thought I’d check up on you.” 

That makes Hunk warm up a bit, that dormant bolt of electricity lighting up his insides. He finds himself smiling. “That’s nice of you, but you didn’t have to,” Hunk says, relaxing against the counter, hands settling over the surface. 

“I wanted to,” Keith blurts, taking a step forward. A silence ensues where Hunk marvels in his earnestness, insides now a blaze, and Keith’s eyes widen marginally at his outburst.

“Thanks, Keith. I… appreciate it,” he swallows thickly, strangely giddy. “Do you want to help me with dinner?” he asks abruptly, mostly to relieve Keith of any pressure he put on himself, but also because he wants him to. “I haven’t started yet since I’m still finishing on prepping stores, but…,” he trails off, trying to find the words he wants to say without seeming like he’s trying to persuade Keith, looking down to where he’s swirling his finger along a scratch in the counter. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Keith says, his voice quiet but carrying that husky tremor Hunk likes so much, and he looks up to see a small smile on his face. “I’m going to go change and shower quick, first. I’ll… I’ll be back,” Keith says before he practically bounds out the door again. 

Hunk chuckles to himself, repeating in a low accented voice, “ _I’ll be back_ , says the Keith-inator,” and he grins stupidly at his own joke, getting back to drying and packaging vegetables with a new-found vigor. He acts like such a fool where Keith is concerned, a part of him ecstatic at the thought and another endlessly analytical, the part of him he can’t suppress. 

It’s not much longer before he gets most of the foodstuffs packaged and put away in their appropriate places, making mental notes of where everything is even though it’s all labeled in his messy scrawl. He sets out his ingredients for dinner on the counter and stares at them, arms crossed with a hand up to his mouth, wondering just what to do with them when Keith walks back into the kitchen scrubbing his slightly damp hair. He’s wearing dark jogger-like pants and a loosely-fit t-shirt that’s somehow snug across his chest and fits to his arms in just the right way, and wow… Hunk wants to keep this image in his brain stores for, like, _ever_. Post-shower Keith in comfy, attractive hang out clothes? _Check_. It’s honestly unfair and frankly unnecessary how gorgeous he looks, all soft around the usual sharp edges. Hunk swallows thickly and pretends he’s not blushing with the heat of a red dwarf star, looking back to his array of ingredients as Keith steps up to the counter a few feet away from him. 

He leans his elbows on the surface patiently, looking over the food Hunk appears so entranced on. “What’s on the menu?” he asks with just a hint of amusement. 

“You like spice? Like, _spice?_ ” Hunk asks, still keeping his eyes away from Keith though the thought was tempting. 

“ _Yeah_ ,” Keith replies emphatically, eyes widening. “I can’t remember the last time we had something spicy.” 

“Exactly, that’s why I want it. These joni fruits are almost like habañero peppers times three. And these hillox tubers get nice and crunchy…,” Hunk hums considering the options. Keith grabs a bag nearby and examines the alien label, squishing it between his fingers. 

“What’s this?” he asks, and Hunk’s hindbrain trips over itself at his sheer curiosity and the way his brow raises into his bangs, accompanied by a cute twist of his mouth. 

“Those are basically weird rice flakes. I haven’t used them before, but…” Suddenly he remembers the chicken-slash-tofu-like cubes he just placed in the fridge, and the ideas keep coming as he rubs his hands together. “Keith, you’re a genius. We can use those and the joni fruits, plus the hillox and some other crazy vegetables just to experiment, and then the…the stuff from earlier. Yup, that’s the ticket, we’ll make a knock-off stir fry,” Hunk declares, turning to rifle through the fridge for the needed tofu stuff. 

Keith hums half a laugh behind him and puts his chin in his hand. “I didn’t even do anything yet.” 

“Of course you did, it was all your idea,” Hunk looks over his shoulder and winks playfully and Keith shakes his head, ducking his head as he smiles. 

“What do you want me to do? I can chop things,” Keith offers, moving around the counter to look through the drawers for the Castle’s knife set. 

“Duh, no other such task for Knife Boy. Grab those hillox roots and get to choppin’.” 

 

Hunk starts on the spicy sauce with the joni fruits first to hopefully marinate the tofu stuff in for a while before starting on the rice flakes, which seem to take a while longer if the direction labels’ pictures are anything to go by. Keith slices the root vegetables efficiently, not such a surprise, and catches Hunk watching him as he stirs the sauce in a bowl. Smirking, Keith bends a little and cuts very slowly and delicately, watching Hunk for his reaction, and when he laughs Keith flips the knife into the air several times before catching it by the handle. 

Hunk nearly has a heart attack but delights in the wide grin across Keith’s face and the light that catches in his eyes. _It’s such a good look on him_ , Hunk thinks, biting his lip to keep this bubbly feeling in his stomach at bay, _dude… you are way in over your head_. That’s a little sobering, but… it’s the truth, really. 

Keith does more knife tricks until Hunk physically moves to the other end of the kitchen, laughing all the while with only a tinge of fear, since he knows Keith is exceptionally skilled, but it’s still a little crazy even if Keith’s just teasing him. “Alright, I’m done, I promise. Get back over here,” Keith gestures with the knife, which isn’t helping his case, but Hunk finds he likes that Keith asks him to be closer. 

“Show off,” Hunk mutters with a subtle grin as he sidles up next to Keith, feeling his heat radiating off him, maybe a little too warm to be entirely human—but Hunk already knew that. It’s only proven when Keith’s cheekbones bloom a little pink. 

“Gotta have something to one-up the master chef,” Keith replies casually, leaning over in front of Hunk to grab one of the other vegetables across the counter, their sides brushing together. Keith doesn’t step away when he begins slicing it up into cubes, and Hunk bites his lip as another surge of stardust threatens to overtake him. 

 

It’s fun cooking with Keith, actually; he takes directions well and actually pays attention to what Hunk says, even suggesting some seasonings (though some of them Hunk honestly thought would not be suitable… but he doesn’t tell him that). Conversation flows amicably, always tinged with a bit of flirting and they tease each other back and forth in words and looks but none of it is forced. Hunk knows that Keith is attracted to him in some degree, if the ‘benefits’ part of their friendship is anything to go by, but it’s exhilarating to just have fun with it. 

Some part of Hunk is staunchly cautious at the back of his mind, knowing their current predicament being Voltron paladins where their fates always hang in the balance, but Hunk’s heart is too honest. He enjoys _this_ far too much even though he knows how dangerous it is, knows how selfish his wants are. He forces those shadowy thoughts away, stamps them and ships them off, and instead picks up a piece of vegetable to gently toss at Keith’s head when he gives him a funny look, giggling at his surprised scoff.

“Oh, it’s gonna be like that?” Keith laughs, taking a wet slice of vegetable and throwing it back at Hunk. 

“No food fights in my kitchen,” Hunk warns but his voice is unconvincing as he turns to deflect the saucy projectile. 

“I’d win anyway,” Keith says haughtily, stirring the pan with an attractive jut of his hips though he doesn’t realize it. Hunk can’t resist the urge to place his hand on his side as he steps by him, lifting the lid to the boiling rice flakes, appearing for all intents and purposes aloof. 

“False. I’d know exactly how to win,” Hunk answers with his voice accidentally lowering a few octaves, but he can’t say he minds when Keith pushes his hip further into his palm as he adjusts his posture. 

“Do you, now?” Keith hums, and Hunk glances over to see Keith smirking down at the pan, but the way his eyes are keen and bright with a subtle raising of his brow, Hunk can tell he likes this just as much as him. 

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Hunk leans forward like he’s going to do something but then squeezes his fingers where he knows Keith’s tickle spot is after he discovered it taking off his shirt once. Keith jumps with a sharp intake of breath and Hunk bursts out laughing before moving away, anticipating the swift slap to his shoulder from the red paladin that lands with a resounding _thwump_. 

 

Hunk feels Keith’s eyes on him rather than watching him flip the chicken-tofu cubes like he’s supposed to, but who was Hunk to care? Goosebumps rise on his arms when Keith slides a hand across the middle of his back, an outwardly innocent gesture like he’s only testing the waters, but then his hand settles on his lower back and Hunks heart thrums. Keith puts his chin against his shoulder, too short to rest on top of it unless he wants to rise up on his feet, and hums cheerfully when Hunk shifts the pan just so to make the ingredients in them flip in a perfectly executed wave-like motion. 

“That’s magic,” Keith says with a hint of awe, and Hunk grins as he does the same motion again. Keith snorts, and Hunk feels him shake as he laughs. “Now _you’re_ just showing off.” 

“No I’m not,” Hunk replies with feigned disinterest, looking at Keith over his shoulder as he does it again just for the hell of it. Keith rolls his eyes but raises an eyebrow, his smile doing cute things to his cheeks. 

“I might just kiss you if you can do it backwards,” he suggests like it’s an afterthought but the sharpness to his gaze says otherwise. 

Hunk is not blushing. Nope. “That’s just impossible,” he says though his voice sounds a little choked even to him. Keith raises his brow even higher. 

That Look from Keith could make him do crazy things. He tries anyway. Some of the stir fry splashes out onto the stove but Keith looks very impressed with his arms crossed. Even though Hunk pulls an overly dramatic expression of disappointment, Keith makes good on his word and leans up to kiss his cheek, and if that doesn’t send Hunk soaring like several propulsion bursts from his Lion he doesn’t know what will. 

 

“What do you think is, like, the softest thing in the world?” Hunk asks out of the blue during a comfortable silence, Keith checking in on the rice flakes while Hunk searches for seasonings. “Or the universe, I guess, now that we’re the first humans in history to experience interstellar travel.” 

“The… softest thing?” Keith inquires like it’s never occurred to him before. 

“Yeah, but don’t say silk or—or cashmere or something, that’s so basic. Like, hmm,” Hunk puts a finger to his chin as he ponders, his other hand moving some shakers around in the cabinet. “A cat’s fluffy tail, or… sipping on a banana smoothie, or something. I’d say one of the softest things is a perfectly peeled boiled egg. Have you ever felt that? It’s like…,” Hunk trails off when Keith bursts out into peals of laughter, stepping away from the stove to bend over, and Hunk turns around just to watch it happen. He wasn’t even trying to make him laugh! Even though it’s one of his favorite pastimes, Hunk always trips over himself to say the dumbest things just to see what Keith thought was funny. 

“A… a boiled egg? Really?” Keith straightens and runs his hands over his hair, shaking his head minutely in disbelief. “I guess I can see where you get that…,” he chuckles again, turning back to the stove and sobering just a bit while he considers his answer. “I’d have to say…,” he stops to think for a few minutes, which gives Hunk time to calm his racing heartbeat a little in the safe confines of the cabinet where he’s currently shoving his head into. 

“Have you ever felt the inside of an aloe leaf?” Keith asks when he’s decided, and Hunk turns to ponder this. “Y’know, with all the jelly stuff in it. For sunburns. It’s a little slimy but… soft at the same time,” Keith explains, looking upwards like he’s embarrassed, pouting his lips a little. 

“Yeah, I have actually. Never thought about it like that until now, but… I like it,” Hunk smiles warmly and tosses Keith the shaker of seasoning he’s picked out for the rice. Keith catches it easily and his face softens watching as Hunk steps up near him, and for a moment Hunk has an urge to lean forward to press his lips to Keith’s forehead but he resists the temptation. Instead he points to the pot full of boiling rice flakes. Keith’s eyes flick downwards after the moment has past, his shoulders maybe dropping a little. 

“Put a couple dashes in there, will you?” _Thanks, babe_. Then Hunk turns to the frying pan and shifts around the stir fry, adding a few more dollops of the sauce he’s made. 

 

It’s only a little while later that the food is actually done, and Hunk plates it all with a flourish, Keith watching as he smiles into his fist near his mouth. It was a little over-the-top if he was just by himself, but since Keith is here, he might as well make him laugh until his sides hurt.

“And just a couple sprigs of luriberry for garnish… some streaks of off-brand soy sauce…,” at this Keith snorts into his hand. “There! Master Chef Keith, I do believe this is your finest dish yet. The judges are gonna go wild.” Hunk puts his hands on his hips and regards Keith next to him, grinning widely. Keith sighs a little then does a tiny bow much to Hunk’s amusement. 

“I think I owe Master Chef Hunk some major thanks, since this is entirely his recipe,” Keith says in a lowered voice to match Hunk’s, sweeping his arm out to the food plated in front of them. He gives Hunk a pointed look and he immediately curtsies with his apron to Keith’s delight before hauling it off over his head and tossing it onto the counter. 

“I’m starving, screw the judges, let’s eat,” Hunk declares and hands Keith his plate before picking up his own and taking it to the dining room next to the kitchen.

They both dig in and it’s quiet for a stretch of time as they eat, but Hunk doesn’t mind because, one, the food is super good, and two, silence at dinner is never a bad thing if the first point is proven a fact, just like his Mama has always told him. Hunks heart aches unexpectedly, wishing he could make his moms dinner just like now, and he wonders if they’d appreciate the weird alien ingredients he’s tailored to each of his dishes. He likes to think they would be. Keith seems to wholeheartedly enjoy it if the forgotten piece of rice flake on his cheek is anything to go by, and Hunk finds his hand working on its own to lift up and brush it off for him. He smiles at him closed-mouth since he’s still chewing food and Keith does the same, all rounded cheeks, and a sweet little trill sweeps over Hunk’s skin not unfamiliar to a warm rain shower. 

For the first time since coming back from the hospital, Hunk realizes just how quiet the Castle is. There’s no one else, except for probably the mice sleeping in Allura’s room, but there’s no one to unexpectedly blast music over the intercoms, no stray Rover’s to shoot BB’s at unsuspecting paladins (though Pidge could probably remotely control one if she so wanted), no yelling, no klaxons. It’s quiet. It’s just him and Keith, chowing down into the food they made together. 

_Holy hell_ , Hunk thinks with a rapid jump to his heart that reaches up to thoroughly sock him in the larynx, _this is literally like a date_. 

Hunk pointedly does not look at Keith sitting around the corner at the table from him as his heart rate continues to increase. This is exactly like one of the dates he wanted to share with Keith, like an actual date, not… not a friend’s thing. Not like how they are now. His whole mouth tingles but he almost doesn’t register it, his mind awash with racing thoughts that he can’t even begin to process, just _not a date, not a date_ over and over. Then, quieter, timidly, _what does Keith think?_

Tentatively, he looks up through his bangs falling across his forehead. He’s half surprised to see that Keith is already gazing over at him, fork hanging loosely in his hand with his brows furrowed in thought. The other half is admittedly afraid, internally wincing at the look in Keith’s face. 

“Are you alright?” Keith asks, placing his free hand on Hunks forearm. He doesn’t flinch away even when Hunk stiffens at the touch. “You look like you’re about to explode or something. Too spicy?” he asks with real concern, and Hunk is very near to laughing, mostly out of nervousness. 

“No way,” Hunk swallows his bite and it goes down hard. “I could use some juice, though. D’you want some?” he asks as he swiftly gets up from the table, not pausing for Keith’s answer as he goes back into the kitchen. 

“Hey, it’s chill, you’re just friends,” Hunk whispers to himself, rubbing his palms together as he walks to the fridge. “Just friends, dude, just friends. He doesn’t want you for more than that. You’ve got a war to fight anyway.” He tears open the door and snags two supplemental juice pouches and probably slams the door a little too hard on closing it. Something falls inside the fridge but he can deal with it later. 

Pacing back and forth while taking some heavy breaths he learned from Shiro some time ago, Hunk finally calms down enough to head back into the dining room, though he keeps his head bowed. He feels Keith’s pensive look on him as he goes to sit down but thankfully the red paladin doesn’t comment, only takes the offered juice with a quiet thanks muffled by his mouthful of food. Hunk smiles a little woodenly and continues eating like he wasn’t just having a crisis two seconds ago. 

“Hunk,” Keith says after swallowing and taking a moment to think of his words. “This is really good. Like, seriously good. Probably the best thing you’ve made yet.” His face is genuine when Hunk glances up, his voice even and eyes steadfast and endless, looking just shy of indigo amongst all the silvery titanium of the Castle. Hunk loses himself for a minute just looking into his eyes, and it’s _so lame_ , it totally is, but he indulges in the moment that stretches to do so. 

“Thanks, Keith,” Hunk whispers, his fingers twitching on the table like they’re subconsciously reaching for Keith’s hand nearby. He feels like all his emotions are plastered onto his face but Keith doesn’t shy away, like he never does, and Hunk continues on after taking a steadying breath. “You’re too good to me, you know. I mean, first you come back to the Castle, instead of staying at the party, and… helped me with dinner…” He’s not sure how to say _thank you_ without bursting apart at the seams with his conflicting desires, so he just settles. “Thanks.” 

Keith smiles but his eyes do this thing, going from that sparkling indigo to a more somber hue, eyebrows pinching just so, and his smile falters. He nods. “Yeah…,” Keith swallows, throat bobbing. “Of course, Hunk.” 

Then he moves his hand away from Hunks where their fingers had been so close to touching back into his lap, and continues eating. Hunk does the same though it feels like there’s a brick in his stomach. 

The air is charged with something Hunk’s not sure what to think of since it’s entirely new to him. Being alone with Keith is not a new occurrence, though this time it feels like there’s an alarm waiting to go off. It’s like they’re about to jump into battle, comms off, throttling through atmosphere in their Lions, so different than before in the kitchen. He glances at Keith when he’s not looking, and feels him do the same, feeling like Keith's going to say something at any second but stopping himself. They eat quietly. Hunk valiantly tries not to let it bother him. 

He starts cleaning up dishes wordlessly, movements dragging, and hears the red paladin pack up leftovers behind him. Even though the Castle is literally thousands of years old and lightyears ahead of Earth’s technology, there’s still a sink to be used, and the since dishwasher is currently out of whack, Hunk gets a sink full of soapy water ready to manually wash dishes and utensils. He focuses on scrubbing out the hard caramelized sauce at the bottom of the pan rather than Keith and whatever he was going to say earlier, trying to get the dishes done as fast as possible in order to slink off back to his room dejectedly. 

He’s almost done with the last of the dishes when he feels arms wrap around him from behind, Keith pressing himself to his back, and Hunk nearly drops the plate into the water with a splash at his forwardness. “Keith…,” Hunk breathes exhaustively, ready to unwind Keith’s arms from him because he’s on the verge of being unable to take this dancing around each other thing anymore, but feels lips press into the back of his neck just above his shirt collar. 

“Is it really so hard to believe that I wanted to spend time with you?” Keith says lowly, voice a little stern but laced with a woundedness Hunk wasn’t expecting, gives him pause. “You’ve been looking at me all day like you’re afraid of me. Did I do something? Say something?” 

Hunk’s breath catches but he forces out a no, his voice sticking in his throat. “It’s… it’s not that, Keith,” he says finally, closing his eyes tightly, shivers when Keith kisses his neck again, moving his mouth up near his ear. He presses his lips to the sensitive skin there and Hunk melts embarrassingly quick in record time, his wet and soapy hand flying to grasp at Keith’s forearm where it lingers low on his stomach. Several times he opens his mouth to say something but each time the words aren't enough. 

“I wish you could tell me,” Keith murmurs almost wistfully, seeming to sense Hunks indecisiveness. He breathes in deep as he grinds his hips up into Hunk’s backside, drags his teeth along his neck. “We have time, before the others come back.” 

Hunk doesn’t really want to talk right now, so he guides Keith’s hand in between his legs and he takes that request without any further prompting, finding the soft shape of him through his pants. Keith nibbles at his neck and Hunk presses back into his rolling hips, spreads his feet just a bit, one hand braced on the edge of the counter and the other still loosely holding his arm as if to keep it in place. 

“God, Hunk,” Keith groans into his skin, teeth catching on his shirt as he moves his head to press his forehead into his back, rubbing and pressing into Hunk rhythmically from both sides. “You don’t have any idea what you do to me.” 

_Oh_. Hunk bites his lip to keep the words bubbling on his tongue at bay, threatening to roll out of him like he so desperately wants them to but unready for what they would mean, what they could change. _He doesn’t know what he does to me, either_. “Keith,” his voice trembles with a poorly kept groan. 

“Let me show you,” Keith’s voice is gravelly in a dangerously low tremor, fingers outlining the shape of him, and Hunk is suddenly aware of Keith’s own arousal rutting into the middle of his ass. Hunk shivers as a flood warmth overtakes him, biting his lip harder and rolling it between his teeth. “At least let me try…,” 

“Yes,” Hunk gasps out, nods even though it’s useless. “God, please… just… just show me.” 

Keith then slips around his side and turns Hunk away from the sink to grasp his shirt collar and yank him down into a hard kiss, lips full and warm but demanding, prying Hunk’s mouth apart to twine their tongues together. He rips a moan out of Hunk’s throat without even trying, his hand back to working on his dick over the barrier of his pants but it’s so good, so hot and heady, mouth pressing more and more heated kisses that Hunk is dizzy with them. 

“Come on, not here. I want you on your back for this,” Keith grits out against his lips, then Hunk is being lead by his arm out of kitchen into the hallway, the dishes long forgotten. He follows Keith willingly, slipping his larger hand into Keith’s smaller one as they nearly jog down the series of short corridors to the living quarters, and Keith looks over his shoulder at him with a small smirk that twists Hunk’s stomach into more knots. 

He can’t seem to wait even when they’re right outside Hunk’s door, pressing him back into the wall and leaning up to capture his lips again, his hands threading through Hunk’s thick hair. Hunk delves his tongue into Keith’s mouth and pulls him flush against him with his hands on his ass, making the red paladin groan into the kiss before greedily sucking on his lip, rolling into Hunk’s thigh. He moves his head for a different angle and Keith’s fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him down fiercely until Hunk’s lungs burn with lack of breath though it’s all secondary to the softly keening boy in his arms. An idea sparks in his head and he crouches down slightly, breaking their kiss, and hauls Keith’s legs up around his hips with a sly kiss-wet grin, and Keith huffs a laugh against his face while Hunk slaps around for the panel to open his door. 

“I like it when you do that,” Keith says between pants but his mouth practically snaps shut after. Hunk raises an eyebrow which only makes Keith’s face redden further, taking a second to admire the color that blooms across his cheeks so beautifully in their close proximity. 

“What, lift you?” He inquires, smile growing as he steps backwards into his room, unable to kick back the surge of cockiness. He watches as Keith’s irises expand when he pushes Keith back into the closed door, his ankles crossing at the small of his back and he arches into his chest minutely. 

“Yeah…,” he sighs before bringing Hunk’s mouth to his again, devours his lips and invites his tongue between his teeth, and Hunk practically swoons at the affirmation and his eagerness. Also, Keith is such a good kisser, Hunk would say it was unfair if he wasn’t the one currently being kissed to a happy death. 

“Mmf--Hunk. Bed,” Keith mutters against his lips, tapping Hunk’s shoulder though he doesn’t withdraw from kissing him yet. Hunk’s muffled laugh reverberates into Keith’s chest, sliding one full palm to his back and the other to his perfect, perfect ass and stepping back from the door to blindly walk into the edge of his bed. 

His calves hit the side and he barely manages to hold Keith as he falls backwards, landing in a poof of blankets and pillows with a small noise of surprise. Keith immediately adjusts so his knees dig into the bed next to his thighs and he kisses Hunk stupid, rolling his hips downwards intently and slowly. He swallows Hunk’s moan and barely suppresses his own when Hunk takes the liberty to fully cup Keith’s ass, gliding his hands along the curves and finding it such a turn-on that he fits perfectly into his palms. Keith seems to agree, pushing his ass back and dropping his front so they’re flush together, and Hunk opens his eyes just as Keith pulls back, taking his lower lip between his teeth and tugging just so. Keith’s eyes are full of mischief and arousal even as he slows his grinding, but Hunk finds both just as pleasing. 

“I don’t tell you often enough how hot you are,” Keith tells him, his breath coming in heavy exhales as he strokes his fingers of one hand along the curve of Hunk’s unshaven jaw, the other pushing Hunk’s headband off carefully, strokes his hair away from his forehead. “Or how gorgeous.” His gloved hand forms along Hunk’s cheek and for a moment he is paralyzed by the tenderness of his touch, wholly unexpected from Keith but entirely welcome, and a wobbly smile pulls at his cheeks. 

“I’d tell you the same thing every day,” Hunk whispers, lifting a hand to brush some of Keith’s hair behind his ear, and--God, _every single time_ \--he melts a little, looking deep into Hunk’s gaze and stays there, doesn’t shy away, and Hunk wants to return the courtesy but he’s a bit more cowardly. He returns his hand back to Keith’s ass but doesn’t do anything else except for wonder what’s running through Keith’s mind, what he’s searching for, if he’s happy at what he finds. 

“Did you mean it earlier? When you said I was good to you?” Keith asks in a small voice, looking unsure for a tick until Hunk nods meaningfully. The look is replaced with a small and almost shy smile. “Well… you’re even better to me. I want--” Keith swoops in for a quick kiss. “--to show you what I mean,” his words are muffled into Hunk’s mouth, resuming the slow curvaceous grinding down into him, hands bracing his jaw, “how you make me feel....,” 

Hunks heart lurches into his throat just as his bed feels like it’s pulled out underneath him, wanting so badly to tell Keith in words exactly how much he feels for him, exactly what kind of tumultuous mess of emotion his head battles his heart to piece together. He’s so selfish for wanting Keith for more than he’s prepared to give as they fight in a war, what Hunk is even ready for, but every time they’re together like this it only deepens and strengthens his desires. But the way Keith is touching him, talking to him, rolling into him… maybe… 

Keith kisses his way from Hunks mouth to his jaw, hums against the stubble pleasantly, lays kisses that are only a little wet on his skin, and easily finds the spot on his neck that makes Hunk bite back a moan. He tilts his head back to give him more access as his mouth falls open, and Hunk slides his hands up under Keith’s shirt over the smooth expanse of his back, tracing the hard lines of muscle and the long scimitar scar up his spine that put Keith in a pod for a full day. Keith’s own hands make similar moves, slipping down Hunks sides and tugging the hem of his shirt up near his armpits, ducking his head to the patch of newly-exposed skin underneath his collarbone. 

Hunk blushes at how exposed he suddenly feels, knowing this is the first time he’s ever had his shirt nearly off in an intimate situation. The one time he’s ever been shirtless around Keith was when his t-shirt caught fire while working on an engine for one of their allies, but that hardly counts. Keith can see his whole upper half now at his leisure, and Hunk tries to keep his self-consciousness contained as he makes kisses across his pecs, smiling into the hair that covers them. He takes a nipple into his mouth and Hunk whines at first, enjoying the swirling of his tongue around the nub but unfortunately, as much as he would like them to be as sensitive as he hears other guys’ nips can be, it’s not really doing it for him. 

Keith seems to get some kind of telepathic mind vibrational waves, or something, because he lifts his head and raises his brows though the mischief and delight is never misplaced. He smiles as he says, “Well, mine are really sensitive. You can find out another time, though.” 

_That’s a relief_ , Hunk thinks, believing for a tick he had somehow ruined the moment, but then he feels a warm buzz swirling around in his gut at the mention of _another time_. “Would you moan if I did? In that pretty way that you do as I suck it up into my mouth? Nibble a little bit…,” Hunk teases, enjoying far too much the way Keith’s mouth parts a little bit, his lips all red and kiss-swollen. He almost laughs as Keith’s mind seems to shut off for a few moments, processing his words, and truly does laugh when Keith gently swaps his shoulder when he comes back online. 

“Hunk,” he chastises though it falls completely flat at the pinkish hue that overtakes his cheeks. “Stop trying to… to distract me, here. This is supposed to be about you.” 

Hunk shrugs and smiles and slips his hands down to tease at the hem of Keith’s pants, tracing the dimples in his lower back. “I’m not stoppin’ you,” he says offhandedly though it totally comes off like a challenge. He doesn’t take it back. 

Keith nods slowly and Hunk can see the ideas forming in his head as a smirk curls at his mouth attractively. He crawls up Hunk’s body until his lips hover over his own, dark hair blocking out the overhead lights and Hunk’s breath catches in his throat, appreciating the sudden seducing glint saturating his gaze. “Alright, then. If that’s how it’s gonna be…,” Keith murmurs enticingly, huskily, and gives Hunk a small chaste kiss before gliding off his chest to the floor between his knees. 

Hunks brain catches up a couple ticks later when Keith’s fingers tease around the hem of his pants, planting heavy open-mouthed kisses along his lower belly, his hair falling over his forehead and jaw to wisp softly against his skin, almost ticklish. Hunk lifts his head to watch and Keith’s eyes open and seem to smile in a way that says, _tease me and I’ll tease you right back_. Hunk swallows hard and shivers when Keith’s hands drift over his thighs to his knees, pushing them apart just a bit, then digs his fingers in as he drags them down the soft inside parts of his thighs where they meet in the middle. It doesn’t hurt, in fact, the bluntness of his nails making an incredible sensation that has Hunk biting his lip. 

Keith unties the string to Hunks pants and starts tugging them down, and Hunk helps by lifting his hips even as nervousness swirls uneasily in his stomach, even after the handful of times they’ve been intimate. Hunk shucks his slippers off and Keith doesn’t pause until his pants are off his ankles, but when he drops them somewhere on the floor his eyes close sweetly, leaning forward to kiss the tender skin of his inner thigh. One hand raises to cover the growing tent in Hunks boxers, the other teasing his hip underneath his belly where the skin was really sensitive. He smiles as Hunk hums quietly, rising to his elbows, and he catches an indigo eye pop open to stare straight through him. 

“I wonder how loud you can get… you’re usually pretty quiet,” Keith ponders, almost to himself, tracing the shape of Hunk as he hardens slowly because of his size, but that fact doesn’t deter him for a moment. Indeed, it makes him more determined even if he seems set on dragging this out as long as possible, which Hunk couldn’t even hope to argue against. “Don’t take your eyes off me,” he says, dragging his mouth over to Hunks boxers where his length lays against the crease of his leg. 

“Keith…,” Hunk sighs, lifting a hand to his hair, digging his fingers through his impossibly soft tresses. His head falls back as Keith lays hot kisses along the length of him, purposely messily with only a hint of teeth. With his other hand he pushes Hunks knee up so his heel rests on the bed and Hunk lets him do it, his limbs loose and filled with a low simmering warmth that makes him, literally, weak-kneed. He would chuckle at his own pun if Keith didn’t use his free hand to take full advantage of Hunk’s spread state to bring his fingers to the space just below his balls and _press_. Hunks legs jerk at the sudden surge of pleasure, surprising a loud guttural gasp out of his throat and the hand not on Keith’s head squeezing the sheets. 

“Mhm,” Keith hums, entirely self-satisfied, and does it again as he takes the head of his dick into his mouth, wetting the fabric with his spit and Hunk can tell he’s sucking but the barrier dulls it a bit. “You have such a nice ass, Hunk… I bet you’d suck my fingers right in after I loosened you, got you all wet and slick… you’d beg for it,” Keith murmurs, Hunks hips barely shifting upwards into his mouth, and Keith’s fingers slip down to his entrance, swirling so gently. 

“K-Keith,” Hunk gasps out, hooking a thumb into his boxers to try and start slipping them off so Keith gets the hint. 

“So soon?” he goads but gives Hunk some slack as he starts pulling them down. 

“Don’t even,” Hunk warns half-heartedly, and gulps as his fully hard dick springs against his belly until it lies heavy against his hip. He couldn’t even begin to explain the way Keith’s eyes light up when he sees it; it would be hilarious if it wasn’t completely and utterly consuming how hot it was and how appreciative it makes him. Keith’s fingers almost tentatively wrap around the base of him, marveling at it up and down, and looks up to Hunk who’s still watching him. 

“And your dick…,” he breathes out, rubs his lips together, darts his tongue out to lick at them and Hunk is entranced. “It’s so thick. God… I wouldn’t be able to walk right for a week if you fucked me, probably come without touching myself, too. I’d be thinking about it for days,” Keith tugs down the bit of foreskin and leans in to press a wet kiss to the head of him where precome has been smeared, licks his lips again when he pulls back. He flicks his eyes up to connect with Hunks for a moment. “ _Fuck_ , Hunk…,” he groans and takes him in his mouth and sucks, his jaw open as far as it could go but only able to lower his head a few inches. 

“Ohhh, yes, that’s so good, Keith…,” Hunk moans gratingly while Keith bobs his head, using a hand to stroke the rest of him he couldn’t reach, lips stretched tight and brows furrowed with purpose. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open, his chest feeling tight with pleasure as his heart runs a marathon against each one of his ribs, and Hunk curls his hand around the underside of Keith’s jaw to help him keep it open. 

Keith groans around him and the vibrations urge another moan out of him, intermingled with, “Oh, Keith, fuck… you look so good, swallowing me down, _yes_ …,” all words unbidden and thoughtless but Keith’s back arches, seeming to enjoy it. He pulls off him with an obscene _pop_ , panting hard, and squeezes his hand firmly and strokes which forces the most embarrassing keen from the deepest parts of Hunks throat. Keith uses his teeth to tug off his glove on his free hand--geez, they were so soft Hunk didn’t even notice--and tosses it to the side before sticking his fingers in his own mouth, slathering up as much spit as he could while Hunk observed wide-eyed and stunned.

“Look at you,” Keith says once he’s deemed his fingers slick enough, “you’re so fucking gorgeous right now, Hunk. All laid out and hard for me,” he moves up and puts a knee into the bed behind Hunk’s raised one, Hunk’s eyes tracing his every graceful movement, and hovers close, dipping his wet fingers down into the crease of his ass and circling the ring of muscle tantalizingly slow. Hunk gasps and wriggles, eyes fluttering closed. “Relax… I’ve got you…,” Keith whispers hoarsely, then surges forward and claims Hunk’s lips in a kiss that sucks the breath from him. 

Hunk falls back onto the bed and pulls Keith with him, his hands flying to his shoulders and tugging at his shirt, a low whine trembling out of his throat when Keith nudges his finger into him just as his tongue slips into his mouth. Somehow Keith is able to manage four tasks at once, grasping and stroking his dick while making out and fingering him and grinding his own hard-on into his thigh, and all Hunk does is kiss back, keep his legs spread, and clutches at Keith’s ribs while letting out the neediest-sounding moans of his life. It’s nice… really nice, actually, basking in Keith’s affections. He doesn’t dwell on the fact just how much he likes it, how he could get used to this… just how afraid it makes him. Doesn’t dwell on it. 

Keith thrusts his finger in further, pumps it through and through, strokes his soft walls, and pulls away from Hunk’s mouth with a smile, eyes heavily lidded. Just the sight has Hunk keening, urging his hips in small circles. “Fuck… you sound so good, Hunk. Can I get you to moan louder just on my fingers? No one’s around to hear,” he pants against his cheek, nuzzling his nose down underneath his jaw. “Just me. And I want to hear you, babe…,” 

Hunk’s heart stutters in his chest, hardly able to process his words as a groan stammers out of his throat when Keith’s hand on his dick rolls around the head of him. His thumb teases into the slit and spreads precome along the length of him to dirty his glove pretty thoroughly but he doesn’t seem to pay it any mind. Keith glides down to the floor again, Hunks hands following him, and withdraws his fingers from his ass for a tick to gather up the dripping precome around his dick and on his fist. 

He eases in two slicked fingers this time and Hunk grips his shirt at the shoulder, curls his toes as his thighs tremble, Keith stroking him within and without. “I was right, you’re taking my fingers so good, holy shit, Hunk…,” he groans, dropping his head to lap his tongue around the base of his dick, holding it along his cheek and dragging his palm along the smooth skin. “I’ve thought about fucking you, y’know,” he lifts his head to say, lips glistening and eyes sharp, just a bit on the wild side, “Touched myself in the middle of the night. Mine isn’t nearly as big… as big as yours but I know I could reach all the right places. Fuck you into the mattress…” 

Hunk whimpers at the imagery, knowing just how good it could be since his own fantasies have provided him many details, but hearing Keith say it, hearing him saying he thought of him, did crazy things to fuel the ideas. And to think Hunk was almost a complete virgin before these trysts started up... funny how that works. 

“God, yes, Keith,” Hunk sighs, cards his fingers through his hair, the other coming up to tug his shirt down just a bit without Keith’s warmth. His fingers thrust harder, curling upwards on the outstroke, and Keith licks and sucks his way back up to the tip of his dick before taking it back into his mouth. Just as he does, Keith manages to nudge his prostrate and wow, the way Hunk keens and bends, jaw clenching, almost surprises Keith enough to back off. He doesn’t, though, only does it again and again, twisting his lips and dragging the head of him along the roof of his mouth, thrusts his fingers faster. 

“Oh! Keith! Oh, fuck, Keith, _yes_ \--that’s--yes, _there_ ,” Hunk babbles, hips twitching enough that Keith uses his forearm and elbow to hold him down though Hunk hardly registers it. “Fuuuck, oh god, _Keith!_ ” 

His arousal has been building steadily, coiling low in his belly like a charging engine ready for full throttle for what feels like forever, everything that Keith has been doing and saying keying him up, but now it rapidly approaches, making his surroundings a little fuzzy around the edges. His mind gets on a one-track record that only remembers Keith’s name and rarely-used curses, and he shakes from head to toe, hands gripping unintentionally into Keith’s hair but he never protests, works with it, hums around him and sucks him down. Hunk half whines, half moans as his orgasm hits him, sends him careening through space until he feels like a comet hurdling between dust clouds and constellations.

It feels like he comes forever, Keith stroking his prostate through it, practically milking it out of him, and it leaves him in a wake of fading star dust that trickles across his skin and settles into his bones in lovely showers. When he manages to pry his eyes open and look downwards, he finds that Keith hasn’t caught all of his release in his mouth like he’s done before, splatters dripping down his cheek and globbing on his chin, but he’s grinning widely, still holding Hunk’s dick in his grip, and if Hunk knew better, he’d say that Keith wanted it, and if _that_ wasn’t hot as all hell…

He pushes himself to sit and pulls Keith up to kiss him by his jaw, tastes himself on his tongue, his lips, but hardly minds, only kisses him for all he’s worth, swallows his breath like it’s his own. Keith moans deeply, hands grappling almost desperately for purchase along his arms, draws Hunk down and grips his hair tightly. Somehow Hunk manages to lift Keith off the floor and maneuver him to the bed at his side, practically tossing him onto it, and presses him down into the mattress. Like a man possessed, Hunk shoves Keith’s shirt up to his neck and latches his lips onto a nipple, and with immense satisfaction Keith whines, twisting up into his mouth and pressing Hunk’s head there as he draws the pink nub between his lips. 

“Fuck! Hunk…,” Keith moans raspily, and when he catches Hunk’s cheeky smile he stutters out a breathy laugh. “T-told you… sensitive.” 

“I’ll remember. They’re too pretty to forget,” Hunk mutters, and wow is that his voice? It comes out hoarse and gritty in a deep tremor, but it makes Keith shiver. 

Hunk slides down the bed to tug Keith’s pants and boxers around his thighs without preamble, reveling in the sight of Keith’s red and weeping dick, sitting stubbornly hard and hot to the touch against his pale belly as he wraps his hand around it. Until now Hunk doesn’t think Keith has touched himself, his hands busy on Hunk’s business, and for that he feels a little guilty, but suddenly he’s not when Keith practically convulses as a loud moan rips through him. Grinning maybe just a bit too eagerly, he drops his head and sucks him in shamelessly and Keith thrusts his hips up, but Hunk doesn’t mind since his palm is wide enough to stop his dick from choking him. 

It only takes a few strokes and a bit of easy sucking before Keith comes fast and thick on his tongue, writhing against the sheets and tossing pillows to the floor, a long ragged moan of Hunks name stuttering deep from his throat. If Hunk hadn’t came and was already softening, just the sight and sound of Keith at the height of his climax would have been enough for him; he was devastatingly gorgeous, as he always is, his hair a wild mess around his face, lips red and wet with a fierce blush across his spattered cheeks, voice strung out and reedy. Hunk was always enthralled with post-orgasm Keith, though, just how weak and boneless he becomes, how lazy his smiles get… it makes his heart clench and his head spin. Just like now. 

Tenderly, Hunk moves to lay next to him, lifting a hand to brush his come off Keith’s cheeks and wipe it onto the sheets, which he’ll have to change later anyway, and waits for Keith to open those beautiful, weird purplish eyes of his. He smiles, eyes tracing his features adoringly, and now in his pleasure-induced fuzzy state, suddenly everything feels more raw, more piercing. They’ve never lain like this afterwards, half naked and panting and sweating, though Hunk has always yearned for it. Now that he’s here, Keith in his bed, Hunk’s heart is soft and the barrier he keeps around it cracks, shudders, though he holds stubbornly. He brushes Keith’s hair away from his forehead with shaking fingers just as he opens his eyes and turns his face up to him, and Hunk makes the fatal mistake of looking back at him. 

It feels like Keith has thrust his Bayard through him, right into the deepest parts of him, and Hunk forgets to breathe. Keith’s expressive eyes say words without uttering a sound, full of arant longing and crackling want, powerful and profound enough that Hunk almost cowers away. _There’s no way_ , Hunk thinks, trembling as Keith lifts a hand to hold his cheek, strokes his thumb along his jaw, _there’s no way he feels the same_. But it’s obvious. It’s so obvious, it’s literally staring Hunk in the face. 

There’s no hope of speaking a single word for him otherwise he’s like to lay himself more bare than he already is, so he places his hand on Keith’s face and leans down to kiss him, hoping it transfers all his consuming emotion and feelings. Keith kisses back just as vehemently, opening his mouth and bending into his frame, returning it all back tenfold. Before they can get too carried away, however, Keith cools, gently pushing Hunk away to stare and search his face, fingers scritching into his sideburns. 

“Hunk,” Keith murmurs, voice just barely audible underneath his breathiness. “Usually… I’m all about action, but… but I need to know.” 

Suddenly Hunk feels like he’s been flipped upside down even though he knows full well the Castle is stationary on stand-by, but it might as well have been wormholing. Hunks swallows with a dry mouth, his throat constricting, and he pinches his brows while he pieces together something to say because he owes Keith some explanation. “I know… and… God, Keith, I want to tell you h-how much… but, there’s s-so much going on… I don’t know if I can…,” he sucks in a shuddery breath, his eyes burning. Suddenly his words aren’t enough. “I’m afraid. Of everything. Which probably isn’t such a surprise.” 

Keith shakes his head, offering a small comforting smile but his eyes tighten with a vague sadness. “No, Hunk… I’m… I’m afraid, too. I-I really--” he stops himself and swallows, shuts his eyes. “I know.” 

All his energy swooshes out of Hunk and leaves him exhausted, his bones practically aching at all the unsaid words that roil and twist in his gut like a hooked blade, feeling uneasy as if they’re standing at a precipice, unable to fall but unwilling to move back. It’s aggravating and upsetting all at once… but there’s not much else to be done. They have duties, responsibilities, a whole universe to save. Hunk forces his tears away, however, and drops his head to Keith’s chest below him, silently asking him to stay. Keith doesn’t say anything at all as he cards his fingers through Hunk’s hair, seeming to understand this just as much as him, and they don’t move for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> me writing this: :''''( my poor boys just get your shit together......
> 
> Hopefully this will all be resolved in a third installment, so get your feels ready. Thanks for reading!! I would love to know what you think!! :>


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